Chosen Families

My young husband was ramping up for a full-blown manic crisis when our 1^st baby was born – and neither of us recognized the warning signs. By the time I came home from the hospital, he needed to go into a hospital.

It felt like a Category 5 hurricane, with a leaky dingy and no paddle. And a baby in the boat. I had never been a mama before, so I was sleep deprived, and let me tell you – they did NOT include instructions for admitting the daddy to the psychiatric hospital with my new mother’s guide.

I naively assumed if things had gotten SO bad you are looking up psych hospitals in the yellow pages (a first for me), all you had to do was get your loved one to the hospital (like the ER). Not so. If your loved one is not an obvious danger to others, or themselves, it doesn’t matter how “in need” they are, you can’t “help them” by admitting them. They have to AGREE they need “help”, and if they AGREED with you in the first place, they wouldn’t be manic!

One weary morning I read, “… like a shepherd He will tend His flock … He will gently lead the nursing ewes.” (Isaiah 40:11) Those words pierced the storm, like a loving ray of light, onto me nursing my baby in that tiny duplex.

My situation was harsh. God was not.

Eventually the police department sent a mental health officer to help me walk through the steps legally. (I will not be surprised if I get to heaven and find out he was an angel.)

BUT, (remember, things can always get worse) we had no insurance. At the time, we only had my husband’s income, as a contract worker. No benefits, no sick leave. His company had been under a hiring freeze with maximum contract offers for 9 month/year only. God had already allowed him to work 20 months straight. Just the month before our baby came, the hiring freeze had lifted. Perfect timing! His boss said, “All you have to do is come in and sign some papers…” BUT

By the time he came home from the hospital everyone knew he was bipolar, work included. He came home to a colicky baby, no job offer, and big bills. Weeks went by and no word from his company. Had they decided not to hire him because he was bipolar? Had God turned His face against us?

My dad was reading in Ezra 8 at the time, which repeats the phrase “the hand of the Lord was on us for GOOD” … so he encouraged us, “God’s hand is on you for GOOD.”  Not to be disrespectful or anything, but we weren’t seeing any good. We clung to his faith though, in God’s goodness towards us, like the desperate, traumatized, young married, new parents we were.

Someone has said, “God has a flair for the dramatic.” I’m a witness. Seven LONG weeks passed,

1…………..2………….….3…………….4……….…….5…………….….6…………..….7……………………..

Then one morning the boss called, commanding, “Stay by the phone today.” Yes, sir. We huddled by the phone, waiting in suspense to see if the personnel department would call with a job offer. We were nervous. Praying. So many things had gone so wrong….

I will never forget the phone ringing! With His exciting and loving Hand, God ended that testing period by giving my husband the permanent job, WITH benefits, WITH a salary exceeding our expectations – the WEEKEND before they reinstated a nationwide hiring freeze. My dad had been praying they would offer MORE than expected, so my husband would know he was valuable, even with his diagnosis. It was a healing, powerful affirmation after devastating humiliation. He was hired not because he could keep his diagnosis secret enough, but because God had intervened enough.

Remember? God is always up to something GOOD.

The NEXT day someone gave us funds to spend the following week on vacation (before work began) … on a lake … skiing … sunrises … moonlit boat rides … sleep! “He restoreth my soul….” Ps 23

Yes, the hand of our God is on us for GOOD.

A friend says we can now put “T and P” beside those verses – “tested and proven”- !

Lovingly, Joan

Contact: Joansjourney@chosenfamilies.org

My husband’s 1^st manic episode (in our marriage) collided with the birth of our 1^st baby. I didn’t have to be Einstein to realize I was in WAY over my head. My baby was crying all the time, my husband never slept, AND he thought the world was coming to an end, literally.

Now, I had taken psychology courses and even done a few nursing rotations on psych floors – but NONE of that education helped me recognize a manic husband. Scary, huh? By the time he was hospitalized, it became crystal clear how clueless I had been. Introducing words like “hypomanic” and “manic” to my vocabulary eventually helped me understand my 1^st 18 months of marriage….

But I was still pretty lost. I had NO idea if I was loving my husband in any way remotely biblical. I felt my marriage had suddenly fallen into some category that was not even IN the Bible. I had had to call 911 on my own husband because he was no longer safe around me and our newborn baby – THAT just isn’t in the Bible anywhere.

One day I read these exact words, “… Older women … are to be reverent in their behavior, not malicious gossips nor enslaved to much wine, teaching what is good, so that they may encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored. Titus 2:3-5

Well there. I definitely needed one of those “older women”!

I summoned enough courage to call the only older woman I knew in our church … You know anyone willing to be a Titus woman to someone like (as needy as) me?  - embarrassing, but I was desperate. I was so relieved when she said she would pray. Sure enough, a few days later she gave me a name. Since thousands attended our church, it was no surprise I didn’t have the slightest clue who it was….

Soo I never made the call. How could I ask a complete stranger for the level of help I knew I needed??

Three months later it was my turn to host the wives from our young married class. Someone had invited a guest speaker, but I hadn’t been part of that planning. When I opened the door of our tiny duplex to greet our guest, she introduced herself, and I recognized “the name” I had not called. Wow. 

I may have been chicken, but I was not blind. God personally brought her TO MY DOOR.

But did I say anything to her? Nooo.

SO about midway through her sharing, she mentioned (as a side note) she had begun mentoring a few young wives, about 3 months ago. She had been praying for women to fill the 4 seats at her breakfast table, but only 3 seats were filled….

I had been uncertain about so many things that year, but I was SURE I belonged in that 4^th seat.  GOD lovingly prepared a place for me, and held it, every week, even when  I didn’t make the call …. He was waiting, she was waiting….

And this is what I love about Jesus: He knew I was too weak to initiate (that lesson would come later). He all but said out loud, “Here honey, I’m helping you….”

I couldn’t stand it any longer. That night I told her I was her “vacant” seat. I couldn’t believe how delighted she was! and how loving … it made me regret every single week I had missed.

For 5 straight years, every blessed Tuesday morning, I sat at her little round yellow table in her kitchen, where Jesus taught me how to love my bipolar husband.

When I get discouraged (like now) I remember this miracle, and it renews my confidence in God’s loving plans for me and my husband….

… accuser of our brethren has been thrown down,

he who accuses them before our God day and night.

 And they overcame him

because of the blood of the Lamb

and

because of the word of their testimony….

Revelation 12:10-11

Hold On, by 33 Miles

…a part of my testimony,

Joan

My husband got his throat slit on April Fool’s Day. No lie.

It was surgery, not a crime. But since it was true (and too good to pass up) I periodically mentioned, “Soo, you’re getting your throat slit on April Fool’s Day, eh….”  I’m pretty sure it did not bless him to hear it as much as it amused me to say it!

For several years doctors had been following a growing goiter in his neck. We mistakenly thought it was related to 30+ years of Lithium use for his bipolar disorder. These days it’s reasonable to assume some side effect is going to show up after long-term use of ANYthing, including soap and water. Turns out Lithium use and thyroid cancer are not related.

Faithfully the endocrinologists checked the growing mass for cancer tumors. Each test returned negative. Until this year, when I was out of town, of course. In fact, his mother’s tests came back positive for colon cancer that very same week. (Two too many cancers.)

The plan was to remove his thyroid gland in addition to the tumors because it was so enlarged. And since we watch plenty of murder/mystery shows, it was not hard at all for me to envision how the surgical knife was going to make the clean slice needed to do the dirty work!

We sat attentively in the friendly surgeon’s office while he listed the possible complications, confidently adding (after each one), “BUT in the hands of a highly trained and experienced surgeon, this is NOT a concern.” If he said that once, he said it 15 times. He thought quite highly of his skills, and since his professional reputation supported his boasts, his confidence put us at ease.

Interestingly, we knew he had another side to his personality. He didn’t realize it (maybe because she is married with a different last name) but our daughter used to be one of his recovery room nurses.  She raised her eyebrows and laughed when we told her who the surgeon was, then proceeded to tell us of his many rampages against nurses, including herself.  She was reassuring though, testifying to his superior surgical skills. She said we would think he was great. She was right.

Although … during our appointment, I did have this urge to say, “Hey – any particular reason why you mistreat the nurses, including our amazing daughter, when you are so ‘highly trained and experienced’??” But when the guy is going to slit your husband’s throat with a very sharp knife, it seems prudent to bring up that issue AFTER he puts the knife down.

Now, if what they say is true (minor surgery is what happens to YOU, major surgery is what happens to ME) this was definitely minor surgery. After all, I wasn’t getting my neck cut. And it was Day Surgery (in after sunrise, home by sunset) with no stitches either – just glue. Ice pack, meds, sleep it off, don’t lift heavy things  … all things considered, how easy can you get?

On the other hand, my husband – who spends every single day of his life trying to manage his mood swings – had some very significant, reasonable misgivings. For starters, if something simple like a cloudy day can push his mood down, what on earth happens when someone removes something so crucial it’s named “The Master Gland” of metabolism??

Not to mention he’s only a year out from a huge manic event, so any change with unknown implications feels risky. With medical sub-specialties compartmentalizing care, is a surgeon watching out for something like mood changes?

I, for one, am glad my husband is actively weighing the impact of events on his moods these days. This means he is not in denial. When he starts forgetting how bad it can be, THEN we have real problems….

It’s been almost one month since that fateful first day of April. There’s a nicely healing scar, and so far no adverse side effects! We’re thanking God for guiding the hands of our “highly trained” surgeon, and for our wise Christian psychiatrist who listens to our concerns and offers constructive feedback during bends in the road like this one….

Post-operatively,

Joan

Contact: Joansjourney@chosenfamilies.org